All while he watches.
“You really should try it,” I encourage him, nodding to the gooey deliciousness on his plate.
He frowns down at it. “I can’t believe I let you suggest this.”
“Consider it my version of a trial,” I tell him. “I’ve yet to really see you eat. Do Strigoi not require food?”
His gaze runs over me, pausing on the buttons of the clean shirt he put on me before bringing me down here. He didn’t opt to change, despite the rumpled nature of his suit. Feedingme was apparently more important than swapping out wrinkled clothes for a freshly pressed outfit.
“I believe I ate you yesterday, Ms. Dalca. And the day before.”
I’m not sure if he’s referring to drinking my blood or the actions between my thighs. Maybe even both. And just the thought of it sends warmth up my neck. But I distract myself by saying, “I meant food, Ciprian. Do Strigoi need anything other than blood?”
“No.” He picks up his glass of wine and takes a drink. “However, we enjoy indulging in flavor, so many of us eat.” His gaze goes to my breasts before slowly traveling up to my face. “Frequently.”
“Why do I think you’re talking about sex and not a meal?”
Crimson bleeds into his dark eyes. “Because I’m thinking about fucking you on the table.” He sets his glass down but doesn’t release it. “Eat your sandwich, Viviana. You’re going to need your strength.”
“For you or for the trials?” I ask, purposely sassing him. It’s a nice distraction from all the information floating through my head.
“Both.” He swirls the contents of his glass, his gaze assessing. “I have no idea what to expect from the trials. It’s never been done this way before. Nor has it ever taken this long for a mortal to be tested.”
“Yes, you said you’ve been hunting for… a millennium.”
He dips his chin. “Most trials happen within a century of a Strigoi assuming the royal title. But I spent my first hundred years restoring order to a broken kingdom. Between my mother’s death and my father’s mind breaking along with his heart, there was a lot of panic and uncertainty.”
Ciprian takes another sip of his wine, his gaze falling to his plate.
“This is a part of my life that I never speak about, Viviana. I’m only trying to ensure you understand why my people may be hard on you. They’re eager for me to take a queen. No one has ever taken this long to accept a mate. No one has ever left our world to hunt for one either.” He looks at me again, his gaze seeming to search mine.
“I’m not afraid,” I tell him.
“I know. Which makes you unique in this world and perfect for mine. Because the humans in my world are not afraid either.” He studies me for a moment. “Actually, we should discuss this more. I’ve told you how Strigoi protect humans and how humans feed Strigoi. But I haven’t mentioned the venom exchange yet.”
The bite I just took seems to stick to my mouth as I stare at him.Venom exchange?I ask via my mind since speaking would be difficult at the moment.
“Strigoi bites have a venom in them that actually makes humans somewhat immortal in my world. So they’re referred to asimmortalsback home. But they’re not truly immortal, not the way a Strigoi is. They’re just… less breakable. And they live longer.”
I start chewing because I need access to my voice to ask some questions.
But he keeps speaking, telling me how his venom hasn’t reacted that way in humans here, how every person he’s bitten has lived a normal life. “At least, as far as I know,” he adds. “Which did make me wonder for a while if I could even mate one of your kind.”
He continues by saying that his doubts were answered the moment I imbibed his blood because everything inside me has reacted the way it should.
Which means we’re compatible, just as he always suspected.
“It simply seems my venom works a little differently on the humans of my world than on the ones here. But I thought youshould be aware of the venom exchange process, as you’re going to hear the term ‘immortals’ in the Strigoi Kingdom, and I didn’t want you to be confused.”
I finished chewing a few minutes ago, but he kept talking, answering inquiries before I could even think them through.
“The blood exchange provides true immortality, though,” he goes on. “Three exchanges, to be precise. Which is why I can’t give you my blood again. Not until after the trials.” His eyes meet mine as he adds, “You’ll go into a heat. The instinct to breed will be too much. And unlike what Marius suggested the other day, I do not intend to cheat the trials.”
Whoa,I think, holding up a hand. “Okay, hold on.Heat?” I’ll come back to thecheatingcomment in a moment. “I’m going to experience a… aheat?”
“Yes.” He nudges his untouched plate to the side and leans forward. “And it’s going to push me into a rut.”
“A rut,” I repeat, aware of the term but wondering if I’m understanding it correctly. “Meaning you’re going to…rutme.”
